


Heat and light

by GlyphArchive



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Banter, F/M, First Time, Light Hair Pulling, Mana Transfer, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex In A Cave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22801999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlyphArchive/pseuds/GlyphArchive
Summary: Working with Ashwatthama is sometimes like getting tugged along by the pull of a greater star, trailing along in his wake. Others its like courting a bonfire, half-waiting to get burned. But this time she's got him all to herself, and sometimes stars fall to earth for a little while.
Relationships: Ashwatthama | Archer/Original Female Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Heat and light

“I could always cut my hand.” She offers into the silence when it becomes obvious that Ashwatthama isn’t willing to give his opinion one way or the other. Rain beats down outside, trickling occasionally into the mouth of their little cave. It’d been cold when they had run in, determined to find what shelter they could rather than risk fighting blind in the elements. Not the most promising of endeavors, but they’d made it.

Ashwatthama’s face twists and he looks more like a sulky little boy than an intimidating man. “I ain’t drinking your blood, so get that thought outta your head.” Steam rises off his body in thin waves and she can feel the heat rolling off of him even three feet away. It’s easy to step closer then, to pretend that she’s cold (she definitely is) and that the warmth he gives off is all that’s on her mind. (Half-true, half not)

One of his arms lifts, abruptly coming to a stop just before he can touch her – either to push her away or give comfort; he doesn’t seem to be sure. It’s one of the things she likes about him, honestly. In battle he’s exceptionally confident but very aware of his own faults. Outside of that, Ashwatthama is either completely blind or surprisingly careful.

They’re both still sporting injuries, blood pooled into clothes even if the rain has tried to wash them clean. She doesn’t think he’d try and hurt her now, if he ever would; but it’s harder to say when Ashwatthama himself doesn’t appear to know what he wants.

What he needs is mana. She has that. What she needs is – more complicated. Right now it comes down to looking at the breadth of his chest and the length of his arms; wanting to be in the circle of the latter and feel his pulse from the first.

“Well then,” she takes his hand instead, looking down at the glove and trying to imagine what the skin looks like underneath. If his fingers are rough or smooth. If he’s got scars she hasn’t been able to see and maybe never will; or if being a heroic spirit takes all that away, a person’s most intimate history, and gives back a blank slate. “I could do this.” She lifts their hands, finally looking up at him and lightly squeezing her fingers around his palm. “Hold hands like we’re kids. Or cuddle.” She adds. “You’re warm and it’s cold.”

He makes a face at that too but he doesn’t pull away. “That’ll take hours. If we’re attacked then it won’t be any help.”

“Or,” she knows this probably won’t be something he wants to hear, but it’s an option and he wants those so she’ll give what she can. “We can kiss. It’ll go faster than hand holding. You might get something out of it.” She jokes softly, smiling.

It’s too dark to see if he blushes or not and she honestly regrets that a little; but the gem in his forehead is like a tiny window into his emotional state sometimes. She’d almost swear it was glowing a little brighter.

“Wouldn’t be enough.” Ashwatthama grunts, looking away from her to glare at the curtain of rainfall outside. She can’t speak for his sight, but to her it’s like trying to squint past foggy glass. She’d be lucky if she could jog for a mile and not trip over something and twist an ankle. “There’s another method ain’t there? Gotta be, considering how mages like to have control over everything.” He adds that last part as a sneer, not necessarily directed at her – but the world in general.

And he’s not wrong.

“Sex.” She lets go of his hand, lifting her arms to fold them across her chest. It’s almost funny the way Ashwatthama’s head whips around, baffled eyes boring into her. A little bit of heat creeps over her skin and it’s not just from him; some of it is almost like embarrassment. “Fucking is usually the most surefire way for a mana transfer if you don’t want to wait.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat that she thinks might be disbelieving, but the harsh cant of his stare hasn’t changed. Maybe he’s not surprised. Maybe he is. All that really matters is that she’s laid the options out before him and now Ashwatthama gets to take his pick. She doesn’t really mind them herself; it’s just part of the package. Another thing to manage as best she can and cross her fingers that it turns out well.

“You’re not married.” Ashwatthama points out, eyes dropping down to her hands; unmarked and unadorned by any jewelry. In India, she knows, a married woman might stain her fingers and the center of her palm with vermilion pigment; or wear a ring on her finger if she’s adopted more Western customs into her life.

“Not yet.” She agrees, then laughs. “Maybe one day. But if you mind – “ she falters a little, tasting disappointment despite herself. “If you don’t want to, we can find another way. Without the blood drinking.” She adds, because his reaction to that had been funny; at least to _her_. Even though he ought to be used to it on some level; considering the sacrifices that could be made to Shiva depending on the worshiper.

He could pry the heart out of her rib cage and be fine for a while, between his own independent action and the mana in her blood. As long as he didn’t use his noble phantasm he’d be fine, able to find another master or end this whole debacle himself and take the spoils.

What he does instead is stand there, warm and silent; studying her through the fringe of his hair as he weighs the pros and cons against his own principles. She’s curious to see where it’ll lead in the end, because the stories have never painted him as uncompromising and for all his stubbornness Ashwatthama has always listened to others’ strategies as a courtesy. If he opts for the slower method of regaining his strength that’s more than fine; she’s already long committed to supporting him as an equal regardless.

Finally he makes a sound – a snort really, before shaking his head. “Alright, fine.” His tone is light, without any resentment or heat. “Whadda we got to do?”

“Well you can take off your armor first.” She points out, gesturing at it with amusement. Even in the gloom it’s beautiful, dark orange and red threaded with gold. But it is definitely spiky and she doesn’t relish the thought of getting stabbed with it. Ashwatthama’s eyes narrow and she thinks his mouth turns downwards but in the next moment she feels a wave of heat and a dim flash of gold leaves him in nothing but his laughably tight pants; to her surprise he’s even dismissed his shoes which, honestly, is enough to give her a chuckle.

_“What?”_ Ashwatthama grouses as she hides her mouth behind one hand, her shoulders trembling. “What’re you laughing at, eh? It ain’t like shoes have a part in – “ And he stops himself there, bless him; clearing his throat and raking a hand through his hair in agitation. “Stop laughing.” He grunts, not looking at her. “It ain’t _funny_.”

She can’t tell him right then that for some people, shoes probably _would_ play a part in getting their rocks off. It’d probably mess with him for a while and she can always spoil his view of the world later, when circumstances are better.

“I’m sorry.” She says, because she partly is; and eases out of her own shoes and socks to make it fair. The cave floor is cold under her feet. Bracing, and it sharpens all her senses from the tug of fatigue that’s been gnawing at her for a while. “You’re right. It’s just… well, a friend of mine used to joke about how men liked to keep their shoes on even when they were doing it.”

It takes no stretch of the imagination to fill in the gaps that the dark leaves in Ashwatthama’s expression. His eyes say enough: wide as saucers and slightly mortified. She doesn’t tell him that her ‘friend’ had actually complained about it often, or anything else that person might have once said. It doesn’t matter and, really, part of her is concerned he’ll overthink this and get scared off. So she reaches for him, cupping his face and tries to coax him down to her level.

Touching him is like putting her hands directly into a fire (he’s so warm it seems inhuman, or maybe that’s just how cold she really is after running in the rain) and trying to get him to bend is like trying to embrace a statue at first. He jerks when her fingers touch the back of his neck, hissing at the cold and she can see the flash of his teeth as he finally leans down to be eye-level with her.

“You’re fucking cold.” Ashwatthama gripes and he catches her hands between his, gentle enough as he chuffs them that it doesn’t hurt.

“I’ll get warmer.” She shoots back, because bantering with him is easy and it’s so much easier when he’s close like this. “Turn your face a little.” He does and he’s watching her, still as she leans in and brushes her mouth over his. It doesn’t feel fair to do more than that at first. Myths never said whether Ashwatthama had ever even _kissed_ a person before in his life and she has a strong impression that rushing will only backfire with him.

He doesn’t move for a second, mouth slightly parted and she can feel his breath ghost over her skin. Then he surprises her by leaning in on his own and kissing back, hard enough that she forgets to breathe until he draws away.

“Don’t make it harder than it has to be.” One of his hands cups the back of her head, burying itself under the damp heaviness of her hair and she quakes when his nails brush over her scalp. Ashwatthama grins against her mouth, other hand settling itself on the small of her back and pulling her closer. “I know about kissing. Ya don’t gotta cover that.”

Like he wants to prove it he kisses her again, deep and hungry. She leans into it, pushing back with everything she’s got and isn’t surprised when he likes that; opening her mouth when he bites at her lip and takes the opportunity to explore his mouth with her tongue when he lets his guard down. Her skin prickles, warming up just like she’d said it would. He’s still warmer, skin burning under her hands when she manages to steady herself by grabbing his shoulders.

Ashwatthama draws back enough to let her breathe, sharp teeth grazing the shell of her ear and she gasps at the sensation as his legs nudge at hers; walking her back until the shock of the cave’s wall bit into her clothes, making her jump.

“Not bad.” She laughs, slightly breathless; and tries to find some purchase that will let her not be crushed by his bulk against the wall. Not that she’d really mind – but right now she wants an even playing field; to be able to give as good as he’s giving. The wall’s also cold, stealing away warmth right as she gets it.

“Here.” Ashwatthama rumbles next to her ear and she hears a soft click, then he’s tugging her away from the wall; tossing something dark on the ground beside them. “Lie down and quit tryin’ to climb like a monkey. I ain’t here to watch ya hurt yourself.”

Turning her head she glances at it, recognizing the heavy cloth usually pinned around his hips like some kind of tabard. The fact that he’d thought, however sparingly, of her comfort was nice.

“You’re joining me right?” She closes her hand around his wrist, tugging him after her. The sound of his scoff makes her laugh, chases away some of the butterflies clouding her stomach as she does carefully lie down. The cloth is thicker than she expected, and not leather like she’d thought. It still has some of Ashwatthama’s warmth clinging to it and that makes it easier to settle down and reach up for him; half blind in the dark but willing all the same.

It takes him a moment but he does ease himself between her legs, somewhat wary now that things are moving. Or maybe it’s because he has to put his back to the cave mouth. Whichever it is, his next kiss is more hesitant; less teeth and devouring heat, like he was testing the waters again. She kissed him back in kind, smoothing her hands over his arms and shoulders; coaxing him closer with patience until he found a comfortable position.

“You’re gonna get sick, wearin’ wet clothes.” He pointed out lowly, almost like an afterthought. Or a distraction, because she was pretty sure the heat she could feel coming from his face was him flushing. On the other hand, she was also sure that if he stayed close enough her clothes would be perfectly dry in no time. Maybe he just didn’t like the feeling of them as they were, damp and trying to cling to her skin.

“I’ll take them off.” She assured, drawing her fingers through his hair just for the feeling of it; not surprised at all that it felt as soft as it looked. “You okay?”

Ashwatthama grunted, tugging at the bunched folds of her jacket. “I told ya, don’t make it harder than it’s gotta be. The zipper work or is it just for show?” He tugged on that too, easing it down until she could lift herself up and shrug it off; seeming happier when it wasn’t getting in the way. Hooking his fingers under her shirt he pulled that up as well, up and over her head with a curious sort of ease. He froze though when he saw she hadn’t worn anything underneath, eyes centered on her chest before darting away. “No wonder you were fucking cold.” He grumbled, trying to cover up his pause. “Don’t believe in underwear, huh?”

“Didn’t think I’d be running around in a monsoon.” She hummed back, more than a little amused despite herself. “Can’t be the first time you’ve seen that, though.” She meant it lightheartedly, which normally could either work or backfire. He didn’t seem to take it _badly_ at least, giving her a little hope for the former.

“Didn’t make a habit of looking.” Ashwatthama cleared his throat, still not looking at her just yet. “m’ fine though, before you ask.”

She covered her chest, drawing up her legs to prop her elbows on her knees. He did look at her then, more puzzled than anything else; whatever shyness or embarrassment had taken hold of him before nowhere to be seen. The cold began to settle in without her legs nearly being around him, but she would rather deal with that than push him towards a plunge he wasn’t ready for.

“Ash.” She didn’t hide the question in her voice, eyes on his. “ _Are_ you okay?”

Immediately his eyes narrowed, but she didn’t pick up any real irritation from him. Rather it seemed more for show.

_“Oi.”_ He leaned forward, hunching over to get a better look at her face though she was half-certain he didn’t really need it. His eyesight was better than hers by far – probably even better than a good many Servants’. “You’re doing that thing again. Making things difficult when they don’t have to be. I said I’m _fine_ , didn’t I?”

“I’d rather be sure.” She pointed out, the temptation to lift her foot and prod at his shoulder surprisingly powerful. “Sometimes you don’t tell the whole truth yourself, you know.” It didn’t happen often, but when it did those times left an impression. “So, be honest. I’m not gonna bite.” Well, maybe she would at a later date; if he were into that. Or just to see how he’d react.

One of his hands closed around her ankle, lightly tugging her leg out towards him. She extended it without resisting, lowering her other leg as well while still covering her chest. Ashwatthama didn’t hesitate, seating himself between her thighs like it was his right.

“I wouldn’t go along with it if I weren’t fine.” Warmth continued to roll off of him and she was badly tempted to lean into it. Night had to be falling, or it would be soon; for it to be so cold. Ashwatthama’s hand curled around her own and drew her in, his huff almost dismissive. “Sure I don’t know all the specifics – but I got the gist. It ain’t so different from listening to those idiots when they’re deep in their cups n’ going on about their wives.”

She guessed it was Duryodhana and Karna he was referring to, since they had been somewhat close in each of their lives. At least early on, since nothing existed about Ashwatthama’s later years that she knew of. They could’ve grown apart, which wasn’t unlikely since two of the three had been kings and Ashwatthama had likely inherited his father’s hermitage.

“You listened to that?” She couldn’t help but tease, lifting her brows to look more incredulous than she really felt. So close, it was impossible to miss his answering smile; memory and something like fondness tempering the otherwise sharp flash of teeth.

“S’ what friends do.” Ashwatthama let go of her hand, fingers running up the length of her arm to curl around the back of her neck and she would’ve sworn there was fire spreading under her skin where he touched her. “Listen to each other when they’re drunk as hell and blackmail ‘em about it later. Now, we got something to do; don’t we?”

She smiled, giving in to her body’s demands for heat and the impulse to kiss him; drawing back only enough to murmur, “I’ll give you pointers.”

“Probably don’t need ‘em.” He countered, and then he was kissing her again before she could answer; pressing her back against the cloth of his tabard. The previous hunger she’d sensed had returned and she reveled in it, opening her mouth to return each kiss where she could; pushing herself up into his hands when they began to roam. His palms and fingers were rough as she’d thought they might be, but their warmth more than made up for it; the rake of his short nails over her skin electrifying. When he finally drew back she was breathless, reeling for a second before the scrape of his teeth over the side of her neck jerked her back to the present. He moved down from there, hot mouth closing around one of her breasts and his hand kneaded the other as she curled her fingers into his hair.

To her surprise he didn’t bite, teasing her instead with his lips and tongue as his fingers teased her nipple with some degree of familiarity. Perhaps he’d done _more_ than just listen to his friends’ stories at some point – or it was just something he’d picked up from hearsay alone. What mattered was that it _felt good_ and she was steadily forgetting that she’d ever been cold in the first place as Ashwatthama kept teasing her.

Until he surprised her again with his free hand, long fingers easily finding the button of her shorts and sliding it free; pulling the damp cloth down. She raised her hips to make it easier, laughing quietly when he grunted.

“You’ll have to get rid of yours too.” She pointed out when he tugged her shorts the rest of the way down, returning his quirked brow with a slightly dazed smile.

“You first.” Ashwatthama huffed, tossing her shorts just out of reach before he turned his attention to her chest again, picking up the pace he’d set. She found that she didn’t really mind at all, not with the attention he paid to her reactions and how he eased his other hand gently between her legs. The first brush of his fingers was tentative and she jumped, sucking in a breath between her teeth. He raised his head from her chest and slowly stroked her again, feeling the softness of her flesh and the gathering wetness. “Here, right?”

The pads of his fingers lightly circled her clit and she tilted her hips up into his hand for more, nodding as she bit her lip. He didn’t need much more direction than that it seemed, gaining confidence as he leaned up to kiss her again. Heat crept along her skin under his touch and the weight of him made her heart beat a little faster as Ashwatthama got bolder, seeking a rhythm that made her arch and squirm in between sharp, biting kisses. He obeyed when she nudged his hand lower, drawing back to bury his face in her neck when his fingers slowly entered her.

He was gentle enough but it still stung a bit at first, the sensation easing off and turning into something more pleasant as she adjusted and slowly rocked her hips into his hand. Her hands mapped what she could reach of him in response; lightly dragging her nails across his shoulders and back, feeling the shift and flex of his arms when she reached to stroke his length through his pants. He was hard, filling her palm easily. Ashwatthama’s breath caught when she gently squeezed, then his teeth bore down lightly on her shoulder almost like a warning.

_Sorry Parvati_ , some distant part of her thought; half lost in the slow curl of heat he’d worked up in her body.

“Take them off.” She managed to find her voice and sense enough to nudge him back, tension making her thighs tremble. “Fun as it’d be to cum on your fingers I’d rather have you inside me now.”

“Well that’s just greedy ain’t it?” Ashwatthama groused without heat, withdrawing his fingers and sitting up. She missed the heat of him instantly, catching herself before she reached out on impulse and put his hand right back where it’d been. He loomed over her, naked and flushed; hesitating as she reached between them to curl her fingers around his length. A tremor went through him when she moved her hand, guiding him towards her.

“I’d like to go slow this time, if you don’t mind.” She told him softly, keeping up the light strokes along his shaft as he settled between her legs. He was big, it was true – but that wasn’t the source of her request. “If you want to do this again you can have me however you like, I won’t complain. That fair?”

“More than fair.” Ashwatthama narrowed his eyes, studying her thoughtfully. “This ain’t a way of telling me you’re thinking of cuttin’ our contract, is it?”

Like she would. Plenty of people would kill to get their hands on him, even if they weren’t interested in _this_.

“Nope.” She answered, lifting her hips and spreading her legs to give him more room. “I trust you, believe it or not.”

Something twisted in his expression that the glow of his eyes and the gem in his forehead didn’t manage to hide, unexpected and curious as though she’d surprised him. It was gone before she could comment on it – or debate doing so; by the time she thought of it he’d lowered his head again, nipping lightly at her ear as he pushed into her. He moved slowly as promised and she reminded herself to breathe as she closed her eyes, trying not to tense.

“You alright?” He’d propped himself on his elbows, keeping his full weight off her as he finally settled, deep as her body allow. She didn’t say anything at first, vaguely aware that she’d begun trembling at some point. But the concern in his husky voice was nice and she latched onto it, dragging herself up and out of her haze and wrapped her legs around him.

“m’ okay.” It came out smaller than intended but he’d have to forgive her that. She hoped he would, anyway. Reaching up she wound her arms around his shoulders as best she could, twisting her fingers in his hair. _Greedy_ , as he’d said. Greedy to have him as close as possible for as long as she could; even if it was like having a mountain press down on her. She wouldn’t have minded. “You can move, Ash. I’m okay.”

He did and the first rock of his hips was enough to set her trembling again, a gasp working its way up and out of her mouth. Her fingers tightened in his hair when he slowly moved again and this time his followed it up by marking a trail of bites down the other side of her neck, shoulders tensing under her hands when she squeezed around him. It was and wasn’t enough, every move he made brightening the little spark that’d been dancing in the back of her mind for a while now and she let herself reach for it; lifting her hips to meet his slow thrusts as Ashwatthama lowered his head over her chest again, teeth leaving warm pink marks over her skin that his tongue only managed to soothe for a few seconds before they started to ache pleasantly again.

One of his hands buried itself in her hair, tugging lightly and drawing her up to him when he straightened up to kiss her; stealing her breath as urgency replaced his care and he pressed her back against the floor, hands and mouth rough over her skin. She gave up on setting her own pace then, tightening her legs around him to try and bring him closer; nails digging into his skin as she held on to him for as long as he’d last.

She hadn’t expected him to go for very long, given that it was (possibly) his first time. But it was worth it to feel him move inside her, the shape of his body above and around her drowning out everything else. Release hit her unexpectedly just before it claimed him, warmth sharp and a little sweet breaking over her senses a she tensed and shuddered; groaning a soft curse into the curve of her neck. It made her feel like laughing – like she was floating and held in place only by his frame.

“S’rry.” Ashwatthama mumbled, making no move to ease himself out of her arms; still burning hot against her skin and not quite soft inside her.

Even though he couldn’t see it, she grinned; remembering how to relax her fingers enough to lightly card them through his short hair. Enough to get it away from his face at least. Then she turned her head and nipped at his ear, amused by the rumble of a growl in his chest.

“For what?” He twitched as her lips brushed over his ear with every word. “I had fun. Feel better?”

He didn’t answer at first, slowly relaxing bit by bit as she did; one of his hands trailing up her side in what might have been an attempt at soothing her own faint trembles. “…yeah. You?”

“We’ll call it that.” She told him gently, humor turning her voice light as she rode the rush of endorphins he’d created. “Get your breath back,” she added, brushing her nails over the back of his neck. “We’ll go from there. Fair?”

He grumbled something rather than answering her directly, subsiding only when she pecked his cheek.


End file.
